Family Reunion
by Rihays
Summary: The Doctor has had a bit of an accident and his only help may come at the hands of a long-lost (and best kept-lost) cousin.
1. Welcome Arrival Unwelcome Disruption

**A quick Note before you begin reading: Yes, I am BSing a little bit of it, but I do consider it within the realm of the suspension of disbelief...maybe more on the outskirts. Either way, don't go off and cite episodes or books where this does or doesn't happen; just enjoy the story.**

* * *

_Captain's log, Stardate 1730.6_

_We were on our way to Starbase 337 to pick up new crewmembers and enjoy some shore leave when we picked up a distress call. We followed the call to its source but found no evidence of any ships or remains of ships, yet there was indeed a call waiting for us._

* * *

"Um, hi."

The girl on the screen was about twenty years of age with red hair and most outlandish clothing. She wore heavy make-up and did not appear to be in any sort of distress. The most peculiar part was that she was fully and undeniably human.

"Hello. I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship _Enterprise._ To whom am I speaking?"

"Um, Amy. Amy Pond of the TARDIS."

"Well, Miss Pond, we picked up on a distress call and followed it here. Did you send it?"

"No. Well, yes. Well, not yet, actually, but I will."

"You don't appear to be in any sort of distress."

"Right, well, it's not any sort of ship damage. Actually, see, it's a friend of mine who is in distress, quite a bit of distress. See, he has a problem and we got wind that you encountered a similar problem and might be able to help."

"A medical emergency, then?"

"You might say that."

"We 'might' say that?" Commander Riker, who had been listening thus far, stood now and went to be beside his captain. "Is it an emergency or not?"

"Well, it is for him."

The commander and captain glanced at each other. Picard motioned to Lieutenant Commander Worf, chief of security and a Klingon to boot, to cut audio.

"Counselor?" Picard asked.

Deanna Troi, counselor, half-Betazoid, and empathic to boot, sighed. "Well, she is hardly hostile. I sense no deception, only a sense of incredible loyalty to her friend, definitely some confusion, and well, a great sense of being tongue-tied."

"Tongue-tied?"

"She knows what is wrong, but doesn't know how to relay it. But whatever is troubling her, them, it is nothing we need to arm ourselves against."

"As far as we know," Riker pointed out. "It sounds like a medical thing to me."

"Yes, but we don't use phasers against medical emergencies," Picard told him. He nodded once to Worf and audio was restored. Putting on a smile, he turned back to Amy. "Well now, if you could just tell us the nature of the emergency, we will have our sick bay prepare for your arrival."

"Well, it's not for me, exactly. And the nature of the emergency is one like…um…"

From off-screen came another voice and the camera started shaking. "Oh, for goodness' sake, Pond, let me do the talking."

The camera settled on a boy about ten years of age. His hair was short, wispy, and brown, his skin terribly pallid, and face looking hardly past that of a four-year-old. He was dressed in an antique suit with yellow-brown tweed blazer and a remarkable maroon bow tie. He studied the camera, putting one eye to the lens and then the other before being satisfied of it working.

"Hello there, Captain Picard," he said in a pre-pubescent voice.

"Um, hello. Are you Miss Pond's friend in distress?" Picard inquired, growing rather bored and irritated with this game.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am. I'm the Doctor. Now then, I have a problem and you may have a solution. And every moment Amy stalls is another moment _my crisis continues!_ So then, Captain, if you will just stay where you are, we'll come aboard."

"Aboard from where? Is your ship cloaked?"

"In a manner of speaking. Just stay where you are and we should materialize…" He suddenly left the camera but there was rattling off-screen. "…in one of your cargo bays. If you could meet us there, we can talk more on the way."

With that, the feed was cut.

The captain tapped his comm. badge. "Picard to Crusher, send a medical team to the cargo bays; we're having a guest come aboard."

"Aye, sir. What is the nature of the medical emergency?"

He sighed. "I don't know."

* * *

A combination of medical and security personnel watched as a large blue box slowly materialized in a corner of the cargo bay. From it stepped the same young ginger followed by a little boy of ten. Two of the medical staff started scanning them while the security team kept their phasers armed.

"Hello," the lead doctor said. "I'm Beverly Crusher, Chief Medical Officer."

"And I am the Doctor," said the Doctor.

"Hello, I'm Amy," Amy said shyly.

"Well then, why don't we get you to sick bay for a thorough examination, hm?" Crusher suggested.

"Examination? What for?" the Doctor wondered as they all headed out into the slate gray corridors.

"To determine what's wrong with your son."

"What?" Amy wondered. "Oh, he's not my son."

"I most certainly am _not_ her son! My goodness, I've got almost nine hundred years on her!"

Crusher glanced at him but did not say another word until they entered sick bay. She gestured to a bed which the Doctor hopped onto.

"So then, you know what's wrong, do you? All right, then, that should make everything easier," Crusher said.

"Oh, for an ordinary being, it would," the Doctor acknowledged. "But in my case, it doesn't help at all." He frowned. "You see, I'm a child."

The Head Doctor blinked. "Yes."

"See, that's the problem," Amy told her from behind.

"Madam," the Doctor began slowly, "I am a Time Lord."

* * *

"You wanted to see me, Doctor Crusher?" Picard said upon entry. The boy sat on a bed while Crusher and the red-haired woman stood around it. "Have you diagnosed this medical emergency? Can it be cured?"

"I think you should hear what he has to say," was all Crusher would say.

"Captain, I am a Time Lord," the Doctor began, "of the planet Gallifrey in the constellation Kasterborous."

"A…Time Lord?" Picard was absolutely breathless suddenly. "But, the legends say Gallifrey was destroyed thousands of years ago, all the Time Lords killed."

"All but one. And for the record, I am nine hundred seven years old." The Doctor grinned. "Now then, your first instinct may be to tell me to prove myself by regenerating. But, you see, we were on our way to watch the New Year festivities on Gardon 4, when we ran into a bit of trouble. I was turned into a child, some sort of molecular reversion field. You experienced something similar, didn't you, Captain?"

"Yes, not long ago. But it did not do any permanent damage. As a Time Lord, surely-"

"That's what I am getting to. See, I would surely regenerate if I could. However, I've been turned into a child too young."

"Too young?"

"Of course. Imagine the chaos if all the children of Gallifrey could change form at will!" He shuddered. "_Utter_ chaos, little regenerating children running amok, no one knowing who was whose." Shaking his head, he went on. "For a child to be able to regenerate, he must look into the Untempered Schism and reach the Age of Regeneration – quite uncreative, I know. Fortunately, I have looked into the Untempered Schism. Unfortunately, I am not the required age."

"And what is the required age?" Crusher asked.

"Let me rephrase so there is no confusion; we must reach a certain _bodily_ age. Regeneration is absolutely exhausting and takes quite a bit of power; young bodies could never handle it. The bodily age must be at least fourteen years, three months, and seventeen days. As you can see, I am nowhere near that age."

"And let me guess, your body now won't just age the normal way."

The Doctor gave them a look. "What is normal?" He hopped off the bed. "But you are, actually, wrong."

"If your body didn't age, how would you ever get to the Age of Regeneration?" Amy offered mildly.

"Exactly. But more than that, we are bound by the Laws of Time to never regenerate until we are five hundred years old."

Crusher folded her arms. "When that happened here, there were no adverse effects. Why not just age normally? I mean, you do have time to spare, don't you?"

"That is an old joke, Doctor Crusher," the Doctor told her blandly as he walked across the room. "And my medical emergency, my call of distress, it is, in fact, more one of vanity." He whirled on them. "Just how am I supposed to travel throughout all time and space, saving entire planets and doing incredible heroic efforts, looking like this?!"

Amy stifled a giggle.

Picard took a step forward. "Well, Doctor, this ought to be a problem easily fixed."

"How did you solve it?"

Crusher went to a panel and brought up files from the incident. "When it happened on the _Enterprise,_ it was because certain pieces of DNA, the ones controlling physical puberty, had been removed or reversed. What we did was take a sample of the adult DNA, run it through the transporter, and have it add in the missing sequences."

"Oh, teleporters!" The Doctor clapped his hands together. "I love teleporters!" He walked quickly over to the panel to study the readings. As he did, his smile faded, then turned to frown. "Doctor Crusher, do you think it would really work on me?"

"Why not?"

He snickered. "I have two hearts, Doctor Crusher, and my dissimilarities to humans don't stop there. Time Lord DNA is slightly different than human DNA. This is my eleventh regeneration, but all my past lives are forever encoded in my DNA. Could you age me without destroying my past lives? And could you age me into this regeneration and not an old one or even a new one? I've grown rather fond of this body lately, and I don't want to lose it."

"He's had it for a year," Amy put in.

He gave her a look. "Quiet, Pond." He looked up at Crusher. "What do you think?"

Crusher sighed and glanced at Picard who glanced back. Finally she looked down again. "I don't know. I know absolutely nothing of Time Lord anatomy."

"Wrong! What did I just tell you? I have two hearts."

"All right, I don't know anything about Time Lord anatomy that is _useful_."

"Oh!" The Doctor crawled up onto the bed again. "So let the medical examination begin!"

"Doctor!" Amy hissed.

"Come now, Pond, you don't want me coming back as my sixth self, do you? Even worse, you don't want me coming back thinking it's my first regeneration, or even my original self, do you? Besides, it's been a long time since I've had a complete physical."

"You ran away from the Schism, Doctor," Amy told him. "And you haven't stopped running since. I would say you're in pretty good physical shape."

"Miss Pond," Picard interrupted before the Doctor could speak, "perhaps you would like to be shown to your quarters? Afterwards, I could arrange for someone to show you around. The Doctor is in very capable hands."

"Thank you, Captain," Amy said pleasantly. "I'm sure he is."

* * *

"Tea, earl grey, hot."

Picard took the cup from the replicator and sat down at his desk. Personnel reviews, reports, requests, so much paperwork to do.

"Computer, music. Beethoven's Third."

If he was going to sit here for hours to work, he could just as well be comfortable doing it.

"Yes, Captain, do get comfortable."

He knew that voice. He stood abruptly and looked around. There, in the corner, pretending to play a violin alongside the symphony.

"Computer, end music."

The music stopped.

"Aw, you wound me so, Captain."

"Q."

* * *

"She's not a Time Lord, is she?" Crusher guessed as she reviewed the results of the general scans.

"No, she's not. I crashed in her backyard after my last regeneration and she's been travelling with me ever since." The Doctor grinned. "Actually, she was only a little girl then, and she waited twelve years for me."

"She loves you."

"In the same way a captive loves her captor I suppose. And, no, I am not holding her against her will. Figure of speech and all that."

"Of course. She's the jealous sort, though."

"Yes, she is."

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Picard demanded.

"Such hostility," Q said, furrowing his brows. "I'm merely in the area. When I heard you were, too, I thought to myself, _I must go visit my old friend, Picard._ So here I am."

"And why are you here in the first place? What mess of yours do we have to clean up now?"

"I'm here visiting family."

"Family?"

"Yes, Captain, _family._ I bet you didn't think me capable of such a thing."

"The thought never would have crossed my mind."

"Well, they're not exactly the wife-and-children family you may be thinking of, more like distant cousins. Either way, they're here, you're here, I'm here. Now it can be one big party!"

"Oh, I can't wait."

"I know; you're absolutely thrilled. And wait until you see the family reunion."


	2. Family Reunion

_Captain's log, Supplemental_

_In a most incredible turn of events, I now find myself host to the last Time Lord in the universe. All the stories I have ever heard of Gallifrey and their achievements, their accomplishments, and their demise, are now embodied in a boy of ten physical years, but nine hundred years of wisdom. Doctor Crusher is currently examining his DNA to see if we might be able to help him get to an Age of Regeneration without destroying his past lives._

_However, in another incredible and most inconvenient turn of events, Q has showed up. While he has only yet made the one appearance, I've no doubt he has some sort of mischief up his sleeve. Somehow, I am not keen to find out what may happen if Q and the Time Lord, the Doctor, come in contact. _

* * *

"It will be some time before I can get into great detail about your DNA," Crusher informed the Doctor as he followed her into her office. "And likely it will take more time before I can form a plan as to how to help you."

"Would it help if you had access to my medical facilities?" the Doctor inquired.

"You mean, have access to the medical bay of a Time Lord?"

"Well, not exactly." The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver and waved it at the little computer on her desk. The images flickered and went fuzzy for a moment, then cleared, revealing the database of a different computer. "I've interfaced the TARDIS medical files with your ship's computer. It contains the data of over a thousand different species, most of which I bet you've never heard of. But, even better and more relevant to the situation, it contains my complete medical records, all eleven of them."

Crusher was at a loss for words as she struggled to stay focused. So great was the temptation to peruse through all the records that she almost didn't hear him.

"You may ask the TARDIS anything you like pertaining to my physical health, but don't ask around as to my mental health. It has already been established that I am, indeed, quite mad. Now then, where would you recommend I spend my free time?"

* * *

"It's beautiful," Amy said, looking out the windows of Ten-Forward. Captain Picard and Commander Riker stood on either side of her. She chuckled. "You know, I get a similar view every morning on the TARDIS, but it never ceases to amaze."

"Yes, it is lovely," Picard agreed, sitting down at their table. He took a drink. "Tell me, Amy, you're from the twenty-first century; how did you get to travel with a Time Lord?"

"Oh, well, he just crashed into my backyard when I was a little girl. He was having trouble repairing his box – he had just regenerated and I guess it took a toll – and said he just needed to make a quick jump into the future to recalibrate everything. 'Five minutes,' he said. Well, five minutes turned into twelve years, but he came back just like he said."

"And you waited," Riker commented.

"Yes, I did. Twelve years and four psychiatrists later. Yes, I'm the girl who waited."

"And he just whisked you away into time and space," Picard whispered.

Amy nodded.

"You're a lucky girl, Amy," the captain went on. "I was but a boy when I first heard the tales of Gallifrey and the Time Lords. I would have given anything just to meet one, never mind travel with one."

"Well, now you've met one," Amy said, taking her cup. "And you didn't even have to give anything up."

Her attention was then taken as the doors slid open and a small boy waltzed in like the king.

* * *

The Doctor made his way into Ten-Forward and sauntered up to the bar. He got a few stares but ignored them as he clambered into a chair and looked around, grinning. A waiter approached, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm sorry, son, but we don't serve children," he said as politely as he could.

"Hey, now, who are you calling a child?" the Doctor demanded. "I will have you know that I've got nine hundred years on you, _sonny_, and so I shouldn't even grace you with the courtesy of my being here at all!"

The waiter looked put off. He opened his mouth to speak but could find no words.

"It's all right, Tom," a new voice interrupted.

The woman who approached had dark skin but wore the most bizarre robes and a massive hat, if that's what such a monstrosity could be called. She folded her hands and leaned casually on the bar, her smile easing the tension in the Doctor.

"So, you must be the Time Lord I've heard about," the woman said softly. "What do you call yourself?"

"I'm the Doctor."

"Ah, so that's the name the Untempered Schism revealed to you. I like it." She nodded softly. "I'm Guinan."

"Guinan." The Doctor mulled it over and studied her. "Of course, I know your race." He named it and she nodded. "An ancient race, yes, like a sort of cousin to the Time Lords; that's how you know about the Schism." He laughed and clapped his hands. "Oh, yes, wonderful! Ha ha!" He cleared his throat and reined everything in. "Of course, the quieter, more introverted cousin to be sure."

The strange woman chuckled. "Don't worry about me, Doctor."

"Yes, you should be worrying about me."

The voice came ahead of the man. He appeared in a flash in the chair beside the Doctor. He wore a Starfleet uniform but was no officer.

"Q!" Picard snapped across the room, standing suddenly.

"Oh, Captain!" Q cried joyfully. "You did make it to the reunion!"

"What are you doing here?" The captain stormed over, followed by Commander Riker and Amy.

"I told you I was in the area visiting family, and here they are."

"Family?" Riker questioned disbelievingly. He looked at the Doctor, still smiling. "You're related to him? Do you even know who he is?"

"Q of the Q Continuum," the Doctor replied confidently. "And I'm not strictly related to _him_, but our species are quite similar. Even Guinan's race is part of our family tree. All of us are, for all intents and purposes, eternal and powerful. Guinan is the Listener; I am the Doctor; Q is the Businessman."

"Businessman?" Picard choked. "I've heard Q called many things-"

"And you have been the one to name some of them," Q threw in.

"-but never have I heard him called a businessman."

"Though it does make sense," the Doctor chuckled, hopping off the chair. "He can do absolutely anything for anyone, Captain. He could make any man impossibly rich, win any war, give any gift, but all for a price. Like right now, if he wanted, he could get me out of my predicament, turn me back to normal."

To make a point of it, Q snapped his fingers and the Doctor was turned back to his proper physical age in a flash. To Picard's eyes, nothing had really changed but his size. He still had the same mess of brown hair, the same suit, even the same face – baby-like.

"See, just like that." The Doctor was still beaming. "And all he wants is a little something in return. He scratched my back, so I'll scratch his; one hand washes the other; one hand brings the food to the mouth and the other wipes off the crumbs."

"What?" Amy asked.

"Never mind." He turned to Q, still lounging on the barstool. "Now then, how may I repay your kindness?"

Picard scoffed. "Kindness."

"What would you like, Q?" the Doctor pressed.

"Oh, come now, Doctor," Q said, getting in that mood he did when confronted with species beneath his status in the universe. "I think you know what I want."

"Indulge me."

"I want what every member of the Continuum has ever wanted from a Time Lord."

The Doctor suddenly turned very serious. "No."

Q made a face. "Oh, come on, Doctor, after what I just did for you?"

"No, absolutely not!"

"What?" Amy asked. "What does he want?"

"Not just me, dear girl, but every member of the Continuum."

"Which is what, exactly?" Riker demanded.

Q shrugged. "Oh, just a little trip around the block in the TARDIS."

Amy blinked. "That's it? A ride in the TARDIS?"

"You have the power to travel through time and space yourself, Q," Picard said. "You don't need any machine to do it for you."

"It's not the travelling," the Doctor told him. "He just wants inside the TARDIS."

"What's so bad about that?" Amy frowned.

"Because no member of the Continuum has ever seen what lies inside those mysterious boxes," Q said knowingly. "Seeing how the Doctor is the only one left, and it's hell trying to track him down once he's inside, I may never get another good chance."

"Can't you just…flash in and out?"

"No, he can't, and that's the beauty of it," the Doctor chuckled. "The Continuum may be all-powerful, but the Time Lords finally got one-up on them, the TARDIS. Our little wooden boxes, inconspicuous, bigger on the inside, and entirely impenetrable by the Continuum; he couldn't get in except if the door was left open, and he couldn't get out except the same way." He grinned mischievously. "Oh, yes, Q, you and the Continuum came to the Citadel of the Time Lords all those millennia ago, just fuming about the unfairness of it all."

"Someone had finally denied them something," Guinan threw in. "Someone had at last erected a wall the Continuum couldn't penetrate."

"Exactly." The Doctor noted Q's frustrated expression. "And now the last Time Lord is still denying him."

Q scoffed and leaned forward. "And to think what I just did for you."

"What you did for me? How about what I did for you? I thought I was being rather generous calling you a Businessman, and not the name the rest of the Lords gave you – Snake Oil Salesmen."

Q flinched and drew back like he'd been struck, but he pressed on. "Come now, Doctor, just one trip? Or would you rather I just turned you back into a child. Maybe I'll go younger than you were." He grinned when the Doctor blinked. "You know – somewhere in the depths of your hearts, you know – you would come of age long before Doctor Crusher decoded your DNA and figured out a way to run you through their _transporter_ without destroying your past lives. Only that you interfaced your computers makes it so the discovery would still be made in her lifetime."

The Doctor met Q head-on. "Then so be it. I would sooner wait ten years to come of age than give you a ten-microsecond glimpse into the TARDIS."

Q grinned mockingly and leaned back against the bar. "Well then, as you say, so be it."

In a flash, Q was gone and the Doctor was reverted back to a child.


	3. Q, Y U No Make Up Your Mind!

"Well, the good news is, you won't have to wait ten years to come of age," Doctor Crusher told him later on. "I'd put your physical age about where you started, nine or ten years old." She frowned and walked over to a panel and pulled up his DNA file. Picard, Riker, the Doctor, and Amy all looked on. "The bad news is he was also very right. It would take years, decades even, for me to unravel your DNA and discover a way to turn you back without possibly damaging your past regenerations. You would sooner come of age."

"So what are we going to do?" Amy inquired.

"Well, you do still have the TARDIS," Riker pointed out. "Couldn't you just jump ahead fifty years, find the answer, then come back?"

"No, that's a stupid idea," the Doctor scoffed. "And it wouldn't work. Doctor Crusher would need to have access to these files for all fifty years; as soon as I pull out, the interface breaks and I'd have to go ahead another hundred years or so. Now, that's assuming that Doctor Crusher continues this work non-stop and inspires someone else to carry on the project, looking for a way to age a little boy, a mythical Time Lord by all accounts, who is just going to one day jump back into their time a century and a half later. Failing that, if the project is dropped or discarded, the answer may never be found."

"Is there any way you could keep the interface locked in even through a pulling out?" Picard inquired. "You can travel through all time and space, surely there must be a way to stay attached to a certain point in time?"

The Doctor furrowed his brows. "You know, I've noticed that every time you ask me to do the impossible, you cite my ability to travel through time and space, or else remind me that I am a Time Lord. Thank you, I quite know who I am, what I am, where I'm from, and what I can do. But just because I'm better than you doesn't mean I have all the answers."

"Doctor!" Amy hissed.

"Well, it's true!"

"No, it's all right," Picard told her. He cleared his throat. "Thank you, Doctor Crusher. And you, Doctor, are welcome to stay as long as you would like; I can have your quarters ready immediately if you wish."

The Doctor sighed, defeated. "Thank you, Captain, that would be most kind." He looked at Amy. "Well, didn't I promise you a vacation aboard a luxury ship?" Back at the Captain. "I suppose we might stay a while. Time and space will still be there in the morning, and I have to admit, I've never been aboard a galaxy class starship before. Actually, I have, but not as a guest. Every other time, someone is usually trying to kill me."

"Well, I can assure you, you are safe and quite welcome here."

He looked ready to say more, but then, "Bridge to Picard." It was the Klingon, Worf.

Picard tapped his badge. "Yes, Mr. Worf, go ahead."

"We are receiving a distress call from a Klingon outpost in the Galorin System; they claim they are under attack and need immediate assistance. We are the closest starship."

"Set a course; I'm on my way." Picard tapped off and turned to Riker. "Commander, will you show the Doctor to his quarters and then join me on the bridge?" He nodded once to the Doctor and Amy. "If you'll excuse me."

"Of course," Amy said.

The Doctor pursed his lips. "No problem. Commander?"

"As I explained to Miss Pond earlier," Riker began, "you are welcome to come and go as you please, though I hardly think that presents a challenge. Anything you need, you can ask the computer. We have holodecks, recreational courts, and many activities to take part in if you so desire. Ah, here we are." They entered the guest quarters. "This is the food replicator; it can make thousands of dishes from all over the galaxy. This is the comm. if you require assistance. And I'm sure you can figure out the rest on your own."

"Thank you, Commander, I'm sure I can," the Doctor told him.

"After this rescue mission, the captain may want to meet with you."

"Ah, truly? I'm honored. And I won't miss the appointment."

It was a dismissal and Riker took the hint. As soon as he was gone, the Doctor headed to the small personal computer on the desk in the living area. Guests would never be allowed anything more than directions to the holodecks or the recreational courts, but he was the Doctor, and he had a sonic screwdriver.

"Computer, show me the interface between the TARDIS and Doctor Crusher's computer in sick bay," he commanded, waving the sonic at the screen.

No alarms were raised or security protocols activated. Instead, the screen was brought up. He watched Crusher bring up different files, none of them related to his predicament. Most of them were to ready scanners, program them to receive Klingon patients. Then activity on the screen stopped and the Doctor felt the ship slow. All right, so patients would be gathered in and scanned and the doctors would be busy.

"Computer, open a secondary link," the Doctor began, waving the sonic again, "and set up a second interface with the TARDIS medical database."

"Interface established," the computer reported.

"Show me."

The screen popped up, revealing the last work of Doctor Crusher. She had at least found the file containing the scan of his latest DNA, but that was the extent of her progress.

"Sorry, Doctor Crusher," the Doctor whispered, more to himself, "but I can't jump fifty years and I don't have four years, three months, and seventeen days. Maybe you will not be able to make heads or tails of this, but I will."

Amy paced around her quarters. She ignored the food she had "replicated" and placed on the table. She wasn't hungry or waiting for anyone; mostly she had done it just to say she had. And it was actually kind of fun. But now she was a bit bored. She hated to go out to the holodecks Commander Riker had spoken of; she would only feel guilty about going out and having fun while there was a crisis happening right outside her window.

And it literally was. When the ship had slowed around the outpost, she had a room facing it. The outpost had taken a beating. Some chunks had been blown out, revealing the inner corridors and panels. Large pieces and metal floated freely in space, littered occasionally by a body or body parts. She turned away from the window and headed into the bedroom.

Just as she sat down on the blanket, white light flooded in the living area, casting shadows into the bedroom. An explosion? Curious, she stood and, shielding her eyes, looked out.

"No," she breathed.

The Doctor watched the strand of DNA expand and various markers pop up. Eleven marker sets for hair color showed up. One of them was blinking, indicating his current hair, and ten seemed grayed out, his past hair. In the overall scheme, his past lives were buried deeper in the DNA, as if his past lives were used to build his future regenerations.

He rubbed his eyes and leaned back. Hair color was easy; he needed so much more. Even as he was thinking this, the doorbell chimed.

"Yes?" he asked loudly.

Amy ran in, breathing heavily.

"There you are!" she gasped. "Doctor, you have to see this!"

"I'm busy, Amy" he whined.

But she wasn't taking no for an answer. Taking advantage of his smaller size, she rushed forward, seized him by the arm, and dragged him out. He could only go along with her back to her quarters where she had a view of the outpost destruction.

"Look!"

She pointed to a spot just beyond the outpost, a light in space, moving closer.

"The crack," the Doctor whispered.

"It followed us?" Amy wondered.

"It's a crack in space and time; it will be everywhere at every time. So it is not following us, per se, but the exact opposite." He frowned. "Regardless, it's not something I care to stick around. Come on!"

He darted toward the door, Amy following.

"Is that what destroyed the outpost?" she inquired.

"No, no, the crack doesn't do this kind of damage; it merely consumes, erases. The outpost was under attack, and it must have drawn the crack here to this time."

Just as they reached the door, Q flashed in and blocked the way.

"Not now, Q," the Doctor growled, pushing him aside.

"My goodness, we are in a hurry," Q observed, following them through the corridors to the turbo lift. "My, my, my, Doctor, how is the captain going to see you? Why, you'll just be a little boy throwing a temper tantrum. And the captain hates children on the bridge."

The Doctor ignored him and practically threw himself into the turbo lift. Amy followed gingerly and Q just flashed in beside them even after the doors closed.

"Not now, Q!" the Doctor snarled.

"You know what that crack is, Doctor. I know you know. But the captain doesn't know. Even if you tell him, you are still in a child's body."

"Regardless, I have an obligation to warn him."

"Ah, yes, do no harm and all that." Q sighed dramatically and leaned against the bulkhead. "Well, as long as you are being all noble and stuff, I guess I can take a little time out of my day to help out a family member in need."

"Commander Data," Picard said, catching sight of the light beyond the outpost, "what is that?"

"Scanning…it appears to be a rift in time space," the android reported.

"A rift? Is it dangerous?"

"It is moving toward the outpost, Captain, but does not appear to be doing any sort of harm. All indications say it did not do this to the outpost. It may have been created from the attack."

"Captain!"

Everyone turned to see the turbo lift doors open and a grown Time Lord exiting through them, Amy following.

"Captain, we have to get out of here!" he told him desperately.

"Doctor, you seem to have encountered Q again," Picard said almost apologetically.

"Yes, but that's not the problem. There is a crack in time out there."

"Yes, it's right there; we can see it."

"Captain, I know you've encountered rifts in time before. It has allowed you to travel to places even beyond where I can go, beyond where anyone should be _allowed_ to go. But this is not that kind of rift. This crack is not a door; it is an eraser, a rewind button. If anything gets close to it, it is taken out of existence, never to have ever been seen."

"Then how come you know of it?" Riker inquired.

"Because most of my time is spent in existence outside of time, and I can observe these things. But that is not the point. If you were to throw a wrench into the crack, it would vanish forever. You would never have recalled ever seeing that wrench. _Ever._ And you would not remember throwing the wrench into the rift because that wrench didn't exist for you to throw in. Now then, first, are all the survivors collected?"

"Yes, they are," Picard said.

"Good. Now then, take a quick scan of the outpost and then-"

"What outpost?"

The Doctor couldn't stop a slight jaw drop. "What?"

"There is no outpost here."

The Doctor glanced at Amy who wore the same expression. They turned as one. Where the outpost had been only moments before, now only empty space remained. The crack seemed to idle over the empty spot.

"No outpost…" Amy breathed. They turned back to the captain. "Then where did you get all the survivors? What about the Klingons we just rescued?"

"Doctor, Miss Pond, they've always been here, at least since you have been here. We rescued them two days ago from a bird of prey that was badly damaged in a fight with Romulans and are taking them to the Neutral Zone to deliver them to their own people." The captain said this like he'd explained it half a dozen times to him and such occurrences were totally normal. "Now, what were you saying about an outpost in this area?"

"Captain, may I have a word with you?" the Doctor asked irritably.

Picard nodded graciously and gestured. "In my ready room."

"So, you're saying that there was an outpost here that was destroyed," Picard said slowly. The Doctor nodded. "And we responded to its distress call, and that is where we got all the survivors?" Another nod. "But there was a crack in time and space that completely erases whatever it touches, makes it so it never existed. It…consumed the outpost and now no one in the whole universe – except you – knew about its existence."

"Only myself and Amy," the Doctor confirmed. "Right now it's hovering over the spot where the outpost used to be, but it will be on the move again, and I don't want to be here when it comes this way."

The captain sighed. "I don't know about this supposed outpost of yours, Doctor. I really don't know." He stood and headed toward the door. "But we've lingered here long enough and should be on our way to the Neutral Zone to deliver the survivors."

"Captain," the Doctor said just before Picard left. "Just why _were_ we lingering here in the first place?"

Picard blinked in surprise as if he'd just been talked back to by a cadet. Finally he said, "You call yourself a Doctor, now get down to sick bay and help the wounded."

The Doctor nodded humbly. "Aye, Captain."

"Sick bay," the Doctor ordered in the turbo lift. He leaned heavily against the bulkhead, arms folded, mulling over the situation. Amy watched helplessly.

"Well, that went well." Q flashed into the lift with them. "And for the record, I remember the outpost."

"Oh, go away," the Doctor said tiredly, rolling his eyes.

"Can I get a ride now?"

"No."

"My goodness, Doctor, I gave you your body back so you might be taken seriously, and this is how you repay me?"

"If I thank you, will you go away?"

"Sure."

"All right then." The Doctor stood, faced Q, straightened his jacket and his bow tie and said as humbly as he could muster, "Thank you, Q."

Q put a hand to his chest and his face shifted into something like teary-eyed love. "Oh, Doctor, I am just so touched by your sincerity. And for that, I'll even let you stay this way while you help the poor survivors." He grinned. "The charity of my long-lost cousins is contagious." His expression turned horrified. "That is a frightening thought."

"Even more frightening is the fact that you're still here."

The lift stopped and the doors slid open.

"More frightening than that is what you'll find in sick bay," Q threatened. "Good luck, Doctor."

"I don't need anything from you, Q," the Doctor hissed. "Come along, Pond."

"I should really just go back to my quarters," Amy said meekly. "I'm not a nurse, not to humans, never mind Klingons."

"Just follow my lead."

Amy glanced back to the lift where Q still stood. She quickly figured it would be better just to follow the Doctor's lead. They entered sick bay where the doctors and nurses hurried about in a frenzy. Crusher glanced at them only briefly.

"Oh, Doctor, I'm sorry I haven't gotten-" Crusher began wistfully, then stopped. "Oh, you're back to normal. I assume."

"Yes, for the moment. Courtesy of Q. But that's not important right now; where are the patients?"


	4. Childhood Emotions

The Doctor followed Crusher into her office about six hours later. Crusher went behind her desk, the Doctor in front, and both collapsed into a chair and sighed.

"I haven't been that busy since I saved the _Titanic,"_ the Doctor remarked.

"You saved the lives of so many people today, Doctor," Crusher said, not hearing his comment. "You have skills I have never seen and worked like someone…" She giggled tiredly. "Like someone not of our universe." She closed her eyes and relaxed. Then her brows furrowed. "Did you say you saved the _Titanic_? _The_ actual _Titanic_?"

"Depends on how you define 'actual' I suppose. I saved an intergalactic cruise ship named _Titanic._"

And with that they both started laughing like morons, exhausted, sweaty morons.

"Aw, isn't that precious?"

The Doctor grimaced. "Please, Q, can we deal with this tomorrow?"

Q flashed into the corner of the office. "You did remarkable work, Doctor, I'll give you that. My, you have learned a thing or two across the universe. And now it sounds like the little boy needs a nappy-wappy."

"A what?" the Doctor asked.

"A nappy-wappy. Isn't that how you put things, Doctor? 'Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff' and all that?"

"That was another life."

"But my observation remains." With a snap of his fingers, Q turned the Doctor back into a child. "You need a nap. Good night, Doctors."

"When are you going to stop?"

"Just as soon as I get my payment or you figure out the answer to this puzzle or you decide to age naturally like the rest of us. Ta-ta."

For a moment, the Doctor and Crusher were left in total silence. Then Crusher sighed and sat up to her console, rubbing her eyes. "He's a real pain, that one, and a good enough reason to get going on your little dilemma."

"It can wait until morning," the Doctor told her, trying to reach her before she reached the files. He was unsuccessful and Crusher pulled up all his work.

"You were working on this, weren't you?" Crusher guessed.

"Yeah, just a bit." The Doctor stood. "I think it's time we both took a nappy-wappy."

Crusher grinned. "I think so too."

Amy was waiting for the Doctor just outside sick bay. She had been used initially as more of an errand girl, but sent away toward the end when everything was getting wrapped up. "So, how did- oh."

"Come along, Pond," the Doctor sighed. "Time to get you to bed."

* * *

After seeing Amy to her quarters, the Doctor found his way back to Ten-Forward. It was deserted now except for Guinan who was cleaning up.

"Hello, Doctor," she greeted softly. "Can I get you something?"

The Doctor clambered onto a stool. "Yes, I'd like Q's head on a platter."

Guinan smiled as she got him a drink. "Has he been bothering you again?"

"He seems to delight in turning me back and forth between child and adult. He says he won't stop until either I let him inside the TARDIS or age naturally or find a scientific solution."

"And what are you thinking?"

"I would never let that scoundrel into my beloved TARDIS, you can count on that. But it would take years for me to reach the Age of Regeneration."

"And the scientific solution?"

The Doctor took a drink and shook his head. "Too complicated to explain, but it couldn't be done either without fixing a point or person in time here to carry over…" He sighed. "Something will turn up, I know it."

"Why not give Q a ride, even a brief jump?"

"Our species may be family, Guinan, but even families keep secrets from each other. Sometimes they have to. Now, you, I would let you inside. I don't have to worry about you doing anything stupid. But him? I wouldn't turn my back on him."

"That seems to be the mutual sentiment."

The Doctor grinned and took another drink.

Guinan frowned and shifted her weight. "So then, why would you want to age again so quickly? You know, I was one of those who got turned back into a child when it happened here."

"Oh-ho! I bet that was a shock. How long has it been since you were a child?"

"How long for you?"

The Doctor nearly choked on his drink. "Excuse me?"

"How long has it been since you were a child, Doctor? Seven hundred years? Eight hundred?"

"Nine hundred."

"Why would you pass this up?"

He bit his lip and refused to meet her eye, instead taking another drink. "Because childhood is no longer a safe place to visit."

"I don't believe that."

"I'm sorry, but do you know what happened?"

"Your childhood is a wonderful place to visit, Doctor," Guinan went on. "The real fear you feel comes from knowing you cannot physically go back there."

The Doctor now turned hostile, not caring if he looked like a tantrum child rather than a serious-minded adult. "My home _burned_, Guinan. I watched it burn, and I ran."

"And you haven't stopped running. And every regeneration is like a chance to escape further and further away from what you witnessed, a new filler to stuff into the space between then and now. Except now you are a child with the mind and memories of an adult. You had a wonderful childhood, but can't face up to the memories."

Enraged, the Doctor snarled and got off the stool. Halfway to the door, Guinan spoke again. "My home was destroyed, too, Doctor."

He stopped and turned. "Come again?"

"My home was destroyed as well, by a race known as the Borg."

"So then you know how I feel."

"No. I won't pretend to know how you feel. I'm not the last of my kind. But when I was turned into a child, I was not bitter. I was a child in a different environment, unable to return to my childhood home. And still I was happy just because I was a child again."

"Unfortunately, Guinan," the Doctor said, "Time Lords are not so emotionally balanced."

"No, you're not. And look where you are."

The expression on the child-Doctor's face was in fact quite comical, the face of a child about ready to scream and stamp his foot and cause a commotion in a busy market much to his mother's embarrassment and dismay. But the emotions unfolding within him, could they be properly expressed, would have wielded enough power to destroy a star from within. He turned and started once again to leave.

"You have the gift of regeneration, Doctor, the gift of the Time Lords," Guinan said calmly. "And now you've been given another gift, a second chance at childhood. Would you regenerate into an adult only to be trapped there forever?"

The doors slid open, but he faced her again. "Yes. And the other gift I will wield against Q if ever I catch him will be a little something I've developed over the years called the wrath of the Time Lord."

* * *

"Main engineering!" the Doctor announced the following morning. He and Amy had shared a quick breakfast and then gone off exploring at the Doctor's behest. Naturally his first stop would be engineering. He made a beeline for a dark-skinned man wearing an odd visor over his eyes. He stood beside a man of sickly skin color. "And I presume one of you is the Chief Engineer?"

The men glanced at him, then at Amy.

"You must be Miss Amy Pond," the dark man observed. "And you must be the Time Lord."

"That I am, sir," the Doctor said. "And you are?"

"Lieutenant Commander Geordi la Forge, Chief Engineer. And this is Lieutenant Commander Data."

"Data." The Doctor whipped out his sonic and waved it at Data. "Not a robot, not a cyborg…" He read the results. "An android, truly? An android complete with artificial intelligence including reasoning, thinking, and creativity."

"That is correct, sir," the android replied, his expression resembling impression.

"But no emotion," the Doctor went on.

"Also correct, though I do have an emotion chip which allows me to process emotional responses for short periods of time."

"Fascinating to be sure, though I am interested more in your engines."

Data nodded once and took the child-Doctor away, leaving Amy alone with la Forge.

"I don't understand," Amy said after a moment. "You all have heard about Time Lords and…follow him."

"Of course," la Forge told her. "Most of us have grown up at least hearing about the demise of Gallifrey. Most of the legends say all the Time Lords were killed, but a few tell of a small number getting away."

"Well, it's kind of in between; he's the last."

"Yeah. And for him to show up here…it's a little bit of hero worship, Miss Pond."

"Amy. Call me Amy."

"All right, then, Amy. But my point remains. It's like…what if you could visit your favorite legend? What's your favorite story?"

She thought a moment. "Pandora's Box."

"Right. If you could see, feel, _hold_ the actual Pandora's Box, would you?"

"Of course."

"It's something like that for us with the Time Lord. What does he call himself?"

"The Doctor."

La Forge nodded once and returned to his work.

* * *

"How long have you been around, Data? I mean, what's your lifespan?" the Doctor inquired as he followed the android around Engineering.

"I have been operational for seventeen years," Data reported formally. "My 'lifespan' has not been revealed to me, but it stands to reason that after a time, I will, in effect, die."

"And between the beginning then and the future then, will you ever change? Will you…grow up, grow old? Were you ever young?"

"I have been built according to very specific-"

"Yes, yes, you're physical shape won't change. But what about your…mental state?"

Data considered this. "When I was first activated, my knowledge and experiences were quite limited. You could say I 'grew up' when I was rescued and integrated into society and began my quest for self-betterment."

"An android with ambition," the Doctor chuckled. "I like that. And what about later in life? Will you ever look back and wish you could change things? Have you ever had regrets?"

"I am incapable of feeling remorse of any kind."

"Of course you are. But do you ever wish you could go back and redo something even if you knew it was impossible?"

Data studied him. "Are you referring to the fact that you cannot regenerate into a child, and this is a 'second chance' for you? Do you have regrets from your childhood?"

"No, of course not. Don't be stupid. Your reasoning circuits must be malfunctioning."

"My reasoning skills are functioning normally."

The Doctor sighed and rolled his eyes. "Of course they are. Mine must be the ones malfunctioning, asking an android for emotional advice."

"If you seek emotional advice, Counselor Troi might be better suited to the task."

"You know, I think you're right, Mr. Data. Thank you."

* * *

"Do you ever have any regrets from childhood, Counselor?" the Doctor asked. "Things that, even years later, you wish you could go back and change?"

"You are referring to the fact that you cannot naturally regenerate into a child, correct?" Troi inquired.

"My goodness, does everyone know about that?"

"Once word got around about your arrival, everyone brushed up on their Time Lord legends."

"Oh, lovely."

"But in answer to your question, yes, I do have some regrets I still carry."

"Like what? Name one."

"Well, when I was nine, I got into an argument with my best friend. It turned so bad, that we stopped being friends. Forever. I never spoke to her again after she turned ten and didn't invite me to her birthday party."

"What was the argument about?"

Troi barked a laugh. "We were arguing about flowers if you can believe it. I don't remember the details, but it started over a flower."

"If you had the chance to go back and change it, would you?"

"I suppose."

"Why?"

"Well, we were inseparable until that day. Looking back, we had the best friendship anyone had ever had, and it was stupid to throw it away." She frowned. "But why do you ask?"

The Doctor studied his feet like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Because I have some regrets. Actually, I have quite a few regrets from childhood."

"And now you're a child again."

"Yes, and I can't change anything. I have the chance, but not the opportunity."

"Why do you feel the need to change anything? You have the body of a child, but the mind of an adult, and the wisdom of over nine hundred years. You can do anything you want to."

The Doctor considered this. Then he found himself smiling. "You know, Counselor, you're right. I don't have to try to escape this. I do have an opportunity, a chance to be a child again. What's another four years, three months, and seventeen days compared to nine hundred years?"

The Counselor grinned. "Glad I could help, Doctor."

He laughed for the sheer joy of it and ran out of the room. He nearly collided with Amy as she was coming out of her quarters.

"Doctor," she said in surprise. "What's the rush?"

"Come on, Amy!" he said excitedly. "We're going to have fun!"


	5. Plans, Promises, and Premonitions

"Doctor!" Amy gasped. "Doctor, stop!"

The Doctor was a non-stop bundle of energy, but Amy was only human. She staggered over to the sidelines of the Pyreces' Squares court and sat down. She wiped her face down with the provided towel and concentrated on catching her breath. The Doctor skipped merrily over.

"Come on, Amy, don't be a spoilsport," he whined.

"Doctor, I'm dying over here," Amy told him.

"I think you're just upset that I've won the last sixty-three out of sixty-five games."

"We don't even know how to play; we tried figuring it out and I won. Since then, you've been making up the rules as we go along and that's how you keep winning. You're cheating."

"Nonsense!" the Doctor declared. "I merely applied the same strategies I use when we face off against deadly enemies to this terribly disorganized game."

"In other words, you're making it up as you go along."

"Precisely. And according to my rules, I've won the last sixty-three games. So, no, I am not cheating."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Now I know why you're the most feared thing in the universe."

But he could not get her to budge just yet, so he sat down with her.

"So what brought this on, anyway, this fun time?" Amy asked after a moment, her voice steadying. "I would have thought you would be working out your DNA dilemma at all hours with Doctor Crusher."

"I haven't been a child for centuries, Amy. And it's likely I never will be again. What's four years, three months, and seventeen days compared to nine hundred years?"

"Well this is new, coming from the man almost as obsessed with his image as he is winning, even if it means cheating."

"I am not cheating!"

Amy stood and threw the towel at him. "All right then, we'll play by your rules this time and see. Exactly what are your rules again?"

* * *

"Pyreces' Squares," Doctor Crusher chuckled as she fixed Amy's broken fingers. "Someone should have warned you; it's one of the most dangerous games on this ship."

"'One of?'" the Doctor echoed. "There are others?"

"Heh, yes. There you go, Amy, good as new." She faced the child-Doctor. "Given what I saw yesterday with the Klingon survivors, my guess is you just needed an excuse to come see me, or at least my lack of progress on your case."

"I didn't break her fingers on purpose if that's what you are implying." He followed her into her office.

"No, but you could have healed her yourself, I bet. And anyway, I am just completely baffled. You have both the simplest and most complex DNA I have ever seen. I try to step back and just see the big picture, but when I get into detail, I can't pinpoint anything. As soon as I think I have something, it just darts away."

"Yes, like an epiphany you can't quite grasp, or a name you just can't remember, or a fish you can't quite catch, or-"

"Doctor!" Amy barked from the doorway.

"Right!" The Doctor clapped his hands together and sighed. "Well, Doctor Crusher, I have to say, I suppose, that it would be fruitless for you to continue your work any longer. I have decided to stay a child for the next four-plus years."

"I see. Well, I won't ask what brought this decision on, personally, but technically, why?"

"Because it would just take too long. I couldn't just jump into the future to grab the answer; you heard that explanation."

"You would need some sort of anchor in both time periods," Crusher said, nodding.

"What kind of anchor would you need?" Amy asked.

"A time anchor, something so powerful it would be able to relay the TARDIS' medical database to Doctor Crusher through fifty years of time so she could continue work."

"Couldn't you just copy the files over?"

"No, there isn't enough space even in their computer to hold everything. I realize she wouldn't need everything, but even just my files and other relevant files would take up too much space. That's why I did an interface in the first place."

Amy raised her brows. "If this ship couldn't handle that much data, how can the TARDIS?"

"Because the _Enterprise_ still stores all their data into chips with memory cells. On the TARDIS, I have all the space in space throughout millennia to store information. All the information that I have collected, if they were people, could populate three Earth-sized, Earth-like planets. Figure that one out."

"Just how powerful would the time anchor have to be?" Doctor Crusher pressed, more out of curiosity than figuring it out.

"Well, you wouldn't want the entire force of the River Danyria to suddenly run through a little streambed in the forest, let me put it that way. And the anchor would have to stay, more or less, absolutely the same. Nothing fundamental could change. The anchor would…"

He went silent, but Amy knew well the expression that crossed his face now. He barked a single laugh, looked back and forth between the gingers, laughed again and ran out of the room. Amy and Crusher glanced at each other momentarily before racing after him.

* * *

"A time anchor?" la Forge echoed disbelievingly. "Data?" He shook his head. "Sorry, run it by me one more time. I don't speak Time Lord."

The Doctor sighed in exasperation and slapped a hand to his forehead. "In the next forty to fifty years, Data is not going to change. He won't grow or go through any sort of mental changes – no, learning new things does not exactly count as mental change. He…he is a fixed point in time, unchanging, unwavering, absolutely fixed."

"But in fifty years, positronics could change," la Forge pointed out mildly. "Data could be decommissioned. Or, seeing how we are on a starship, disaster could strike."

"It is a chance everyone takes, Mr. la Forge," the Doctor said. "And one I am also willing to take. If said disaster should strike, I am no worse for wear. Your lives would go on like normal."

"Doctor, in fifty years, most of us won't be alive," Crusher informed him. "Unlike you, we only live once. And the _Enterprise_ will most certainly be put out of commission, taken to a museum, inaccessible."

"Hm…you make a good point, Doctor Crusher."

"Getting into places has never been a problem for him," Amy said.

"Very true, Amy. So then, how to coordinate everything? We have an android for a time anchor and interface, a doctor for the researcher, and a ship for the storage." He put a hand to his chin and started pacing.

"With all due respect, Doctor, but you talk about this coordination like you're about to tell us where we need to be and how we're going to get there, like running our lives or something," la Forge said, put off. "I can respect that you have the power to travel through time and space, but does that give you right to do this, for your own means? This sounds more like fifty years of research to satisfy your own vanity."

"I am a Time Lord, Mr. la Forge, so I do actually have that right, much the same way you as a human have a right to breathe oxygen."

"Doctor!" Amy said.

He ignored her. "You are right, however, that this is primarily about vanity, though there is a very practical application to all of this. Now then, take Amy here. I whisked her away promising to show her the wonders of the universe. But not all the wonders of the universe are very nice. True, I do try to avoid some of the nastier ones; it doesn't always work out. Now take me, a child before the Age of Regeneration and the last of my kind. In facing some of the more dangerous wonders of the universe, I put myself at great risk protecting Amy. So far, I have managed to avoid taking such an injury so as to instigate regeneration. But if, as a child, I do sustain an injury and cannot regenerate – also known as _death_ – poor Amy will be left to the mercies of the universe. More than that, she will be unable to get home because the TARDIS can be piloted only by a Time Lord.

"Now then, I certainly could wait four years, three months and seventeen days to reach the proper age, but what would we do in the meantime? Play cards? I could even drop Amy off home, fly away on the TARDIS by myself for four years, three months and seventeen days, then come back and hardly a minute will have passed for her. But again, what would I do? I certainly couldn't place myself in any sort of danger, and every time I go on a vacation I still manage to place myself in danger. So there I am, left alone on the TARDIS for four years, three months and seventeen days without even anyone to play cards with. And just so you know, even when we are just lounging about the TARDIS, danger always seems to come to us, no real travel required. Thus I encounter danger and possible death all the same."

He could tell the others had stopped actively listening about halfway through. Doctor Crusher was the first to break the lull.

"Is there no way to artificially instigate regeneration in a child?" she wondered. "What if a child was injured or sick or otherwise near death? Would there be no way to save them at all?"

The Doctor sighed sadly. "Gallifrey was quite safe, Doctor. We had the finest physicians in the galaxy. Treating even the most severe injuries was like baking an intricate cake. As for sickness, we could go anywhere in time and space to fetch a cure. For us, there were no incurable diseases, no fatal wounds."

"And yet they all died," Amy said quietly. "In the Last Great Time War, they died."

"Yes, they did. And as I looked out at my burning planet, I saw so many trying to regenerate, but there was nowhere to go. Fire is the final killer. When a Time Lord finally dies, his body is burned." He gave her a pointed look. "You burn the body on a pyre."

"And the children?" Doctor Crusher asked, bringing the conversation back around. "Even the children could do nothing under such dire circumstances?"

The Doctor did not reply; his expression had turned distant. When he came to, he shook his head. "Not in fire."

Amy forced a small smile. "I sense a 'but' coming."

"Not in fire, but there is only one known instance of a child regenerating." He let out his breath. "Unfortunately, the instance was never again recorded. Believe me, they tried. They tested the girl and examined her, but couldn't figure out what triggered her regeneration."

"What was she dying from?"

"Doesn't matter; if the physicians on Gallifrey could not recreate the circumstances, neither can you, Doctor Crusher."

"You might be surprised."

"Oh, true, but I am not putting my life into your hands because if it failed, well, I would be dead."

"Which brings us back to the coordination," la Forge said, still spiteful about the whole thing.

"Right!" The Doctor snapped to attention like the last few minutes had never happened. "You know, all this talking and reminiscing has even given me a wonderful idea!"

* * *

"So, you think forty years will be enough?"

The Doctor whirled around to see Guinan strolling into the cargo bay.

"Oh, yes, it should. I did a bit more research myself to kick-start things, got Doctor Crusher started in the right direction. Forty years ought to be more than enough time." He grabbed the handle to the door, then turned slowly. "Would you like to take that ride I promised?"

Guinan smiled sweetly. "I think I'll get to that forty years in my own time, thank you."

"Oh, come on. It'll be fun!"

"I couldn't possibly."

"Well, if you insist." He shrugged and looked around suspiciously. "Just keep an eye for Q, eh?"

"You got it. Have a good trip, Doctor."

He chuckled. "Guinan, I can travel halfway across the universe, spend a hundred years exploring the galaxy, then come back and only ten seconds will have passed." His brows furrowed. "Now where have I heard that before?"

"Perhaps, but I'll just be getting back to Ten-Forward."

"Well stick around for just a minute. You'll like this part."

Casting about another glance for Q, the Doctor slipped inside and up to the controls where Amy was waiting. "Right then, ready to go?"

"Forty years? Such a small jump, even for you, Doctor," Amy teased.

"I'm ignoring that comment for now. Hang on!"

And Guinan watched outside as the strange blue box slowly disappeared.

* * *

**I was originally going to make this the point where Q unleashed his disguise and jumped the Doctor and hijacked the TARDIS, but then I just decided against it. I felt the Doctor needed a more mild adventure. Just this once. *shifty eyes***


	6. Night in the Museum's Closet

"Welcome to the United Federation of Planets Museum," the stewardess greeted cheerfully. "Our children's section is just down the hall if you are so interested."

"Thank you, um, Karen," Amy said, reading the woman's nametag. "But my son is just too clever for the children's section anymore."

"Ah, we get that quite a bit. What's his name?"

"Do-, Donnie. His name is Donnie."

The stewardess got down on one knee, eye-to-eye with the child-Doctor. "Well, Donnie, you know a lot about starships and aliens do you? Can you name ten alien species for me?"

The Doctor did his best not to grimace. Some parts of childhood he did not miss or regret. "Klingons, Romulans, Vulcans, Cardassian, Betazoid, Borg, Telarian, Dalek, Human, and Time Lords. And you are a Cerarian."

"Time Lords." Her eyebrows shot sky-high. "Well, he certainly knows his alien legends." She stood and looked at Amy, still smiling. "I won't keep you any longer. Maps are available at every turbo lift."

Amy thanked her and hurried to the nearest lift, the child-Doctor in tow. They stopped at a map and pretended to study it.

"Donnie," he stated.

"Well, I couldn't call you Doctor," Amy retorted.

"Oh, believe me, it wouldn't be the strangest name they've heard."

Silence.

"You named both humans and Time Lords as aliens," she observed, pointing to a spot on the map as if deciding on a destination.

"She's a Cerarian," the Doctor said casually, nodding like an eager child. "The happiest species in the universe. They make great stewards, teachers and models. Humans and Time Lords would in fact both be aliens to her."

"Cerarians are the happiest? I thought it would be the Smilers."

"That's a very low pun, Pond, even for you."

She only grinned.

The lift doors beside the map suddenly opened and a crowd of people exited, laughing and talking excitedly. Amy and the Doctor hopped on and quickly pressed a random button before anyone else could get in.

"So then, where do we start?" Amy inquired. "I don't quite follow your plan."

"We start wherever we want to," the Doctor told her. "Right now, we are merely patrons of the museum."

"And then we're just going to lock ourselves in a closet and wait until closing time, is that right?"

"Precisely."

* * *

"Welcome to the United Federation of Planets Museum. I'm sorry, sir, but we are closing down right now."

She never stopped smiling, even in rejection. He curled his lip in disgust. Still she didn't faze.

"Has _everyone_ who has gone in since come out?" he inquired.

"It would be impossible for me to say, sir; I am not the only stewardess."

"All right then, have you seen a young woman with obnoxious red hair? She would have come in with a little boy about nine or ten years old."

"Ah, yes, little Donnie and his mother. He is so smart, able to name ten alien species. He even seemed to know I was Cerarian and could name a human as an alien. Better than that, he is very well-versed in his legends and even named Time Lords as an alien. Can you imagine, a child of ten knowing about _Time Lords?"_

"Oh, I can imagine." And right now he wanted only to get away from this stewardess. "Thank you for your help."

"No problem, sir. You can come back tomorrow; our hours are oh-seven hundred to twenty-one hundred every day."

He hurried away from the museum, and the stewardess into the shadows. Cerarians were certainly ecstatic beings, and notoriously bad secret-keepers. So, the Doctor had managed to make a successful leap forward. Well, it's time he had a little bit of success himself.

* * *

"Can we get out now?" Amy whined. "It's hot and dark and cramped and something smells."

"Well we're two people stuck in an under-ventilated, unlit closet of about fifty-four cubic feet. Your breathing has increased in the last two hours, using up more oxygen than is coming in. Essentially, we're suffocating in here. With our body-heat, we are also sweating and dehydrating."

"Wonderful. And the smell?"

"You remember those canisters you knocked over in your haste to hide in here? Those chemicals have been mixing together. We're also going to die of asphyxiation."

"Even better. So when can we bust out of here?"

"It's closing time; the stewards will be going through and shooing away all the last-minute crawlers. After that, the security guard locks up and starts making his rounds."

"I thought, in the future, there was no crime."

"You've been watching too much TV."

"And how is it that you can stay so calm?"

"I'm a child, Amy. I don't need so much oxygen, and with two hearts, I can process it more efficiently. It makes running easier. Much better than you and your one heart."

"Sorry, I'll get right on that."

"Hush! Someone's coming!"

Outside, they could hear footsteps. They were perfect, an even gait, a confident and consistent stride. She jumped as the door handle waggled. And then, the door opened and she tumbled to the floor, the Doctor on top of her.

"Ah, right on time!" the Doctor said, standing and dusting himself off. "Thank you, Mr. Data."

"Data?" Amy wondered. She blindly took the pale hand that was offered.

Indeed, the android stood before them. The only thing that had really changed was his uniform.

"Of course, who else but our time anchor?" the Doctor said. "You were decommissioned as an android, what, twenty years ago?"

"Nineteen years, four months, and twelve days."

"And still so precise. He spent fifteen years teaching at Starfleet Academy until he retired to pursue other interests."

"Other interests?"

"He came here to the largest Federation museum to become a security guard and work his way up until he was the most trusted and absolute best guard, so trusted in fact, as to be allowed to roam this entire place alone. Am I right?"

"Your information is correct, Doctor."

"Why were you decommissioned?" Amy inquired.

"Scientists had finally 'cracked the code' of my positronic net and were able to reproduce it. More androids with artificial intelligence were created. They perfected the technique to create a wide variety of 'styles' so-to-speak and even included stable emotions."

"And now he's going to let us into the _Enterprise_ exhibit, isn't that right?" the Doctor asked cheerfully.

Data nodded and led them away from the closet through the museum, talking all the while.

"Doctor Crusher continued your work as you asked, Doctor. After the _Enterprise-D_ was taken out of service twenty-five years ago, she left the fleet to continue her education in genetic research. She became a leading figure in developing cures for many genetic diseases, most of which came from studying your DNA."

"Oh, well, you're welcome."

"She believed she found the answer to your problem three years ago, but she died six months later."

"Oh no," Amy breathed.

"Oh no?" Data echoed. "Death is a natural part of life."

"And he _still_ doesn't understand emotions," the Doctor said, standing in awe of the android.

"Well neither do you," Amy taunted.

"Oh, Pond, another low blow. It's just been a day of low blows for you, hasn't it?" He frowned. "So then, did Doctor Crusher store the information where I told her? Better yet, did _you_ store it where I told you?"

"I did. This way."

The android led them to the seventeenth floor of the west wing where a large sign saying _U.S.S. Enterprise_ waited for them. It looked like it may have lit up during the day, but now all was quiet. A board directed them to the different ships, A-D.

"So then, the _Enterprise_ didn't blow up," the Doctor said, wandering down the hall marked _Enterprise A._

"No, it was retired twenty-five years ago," Data told him, going after him.

"Doctor," Amy called, hurrying after him.

"After the Battle of Tojim, the _Enterprise_ returned to spacedock where a ceremony was held for it being retired. It was then stripped and moved here to the museum."

"Stripped how?"

"It was restored to its original settings, before it was commissioned into service. All personal effects were removed, either by the _Enterprise_ crew or the cleanup crew. After that, only the essential rooms were moved to the museum."

"Of course, each room was made into an exhibit. See, the Bridge, the Captain's Ready Room, the Conference Room, Main Engineering, standard quarters, a science lab, a transporter, and…Sick Bay, complete with the Chief Doctor's private office." The Doctor nodded. "You don't need all one thousand quarters in an exhibit to express what life was like, the same way you don't need every single car from the 21st century to depict transportation of that era."

"So, how does that help us find the information we need?" Amy asked.

"Find it? I already know where it is."

"Then what are we doing here?"

"Enjoying a private tour of the museum, Pond, relax. So we look around a bit, get into a little mischief with the exhibits, get what we need and get out of here before daybreak."

"May I remind you, Doctor, that I am already violating museum policy-"

"Yes, yes rules and policies. But as Amy reminded me earlier today – or, you know, forty years ago – I make up my own rules as I go along. Come along, Pond."

Amy did so, but couldn't help but ask, "Doctor, why didn't we just land the TARDIS where the information was? And later? Less risky that way, don't you think?"

"Risk? Since when have you been worried about risk?"

Data was more than happy to detail the history of the _Enterprise_ line, discontinued after the fourth ship, "like retiring a hurricane name" as the Doctor explained it. The android could tell them just about anything about each model, the technology, important missions or accomplishments. And the Doctor listened like an intrigued student and always asked questions. Amy just went along, pretending to understand.

"Doctor, it is oh-six hundred," Data told him after a while. "The morning janitorial staff will be here soon, as well as the stewards."

"All right then, come on. We better get that information." The Doctor turned to head to the D-exhibit. "And maybe we'll come back later, properly, for a longer tour. Would you be interested?"

"I would be glad to give you a tour, Doctor."

"Yes, of course you would."

The sick bay of the D-exhibit had not changed one bit, but that was to be expected. Even the private office looked pristine.

"So then, down with the force field, in and out and get back," the Doctor said.

Data lowered the force field, but as they were about to enter, a man appeared in a flash, an unwelcome man. In one hand was a data disk.

"Q," he said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, come now, Doctor. Did you really expect it to be that easy?"


	7. The Time Anchor

The Doctor stifled a roar of frustration and merely settled for, "Can we do this later, Q?"

Q looked wounded. "But why? This is my last chance to get into the TARDIS peacefully."

"Peacefully?! Oh, Q, we both know there is no word for 'peace' in your native tongue; the closest concept is 'not-war' and the word for 'war' is also the same as the word for 'fun.'"

"True enough, but I don't think that matters to her."

He nodded behind them. They turned to see the Cerarian stewardess approaching with two burly-looking stewards just behind her. At least, Amy thought it was the Cerarian.

"Doctor, are we in trouble?" Amy hissed.

"Do you remember what I told you about the stewardess?" he wondered.

"She's a Cerarian, the happiest species in the universe."

"Do you know how to tell when you are in life-threatening trouble?"

"No, but tell me anyway."

"The Cerarian stops smiling. Run!"

So they turned tail and fled; the stewards behind them also broke into a run.

"So a frowning Cerarian is definitely bad," Amy gasped.

"Who do you think _inspired_ the creation of the Smilers?!" the Doctor laughed.

Amy could not share his enthusiasm about the Cerarians and the Smilers, but a great sense of relief washed over her as she ran. No adventure was really complete without some sort of chase.

The Doctor evaded notice for just a moment, more than enough time to herd Amy and Data into one of the cabin exhibits – Enterprise B, the Bridge. They ducked behind chairs and under tables. The Cerarian and her goons ran by, oblivious.

"All right, Mr. Data, what's the fastest way back to where we need to be?" the Doctor hissed.

Before the android could reply, one of the doors of the exhibit – a door literally part of the exhibit, not just to the rest of the museum – slid open and revealed bright light.

"Right then, this way." The Doctor darted from his hiding place, Amy hard on his heels.

"The doors…are not supposed to open," Data said, puzzled.

"Come on!" Amy goaded.

They all ran through the door…and found themselves on a very active Bridge of the Enterprise B. For a moment, no one seemed to notice. Then, a shout was heard and soon all weapons were armed and pointed at them. A man at the command stood and faced them.

"I am Commander David Kleis of the _U.S.S. Enterprise._ Who are you and how did you get on this ship?" he asked formally.

"Um, right, we're trying to figure that out," the Doctor said. "See, we were in a museum and a door opened and-"

A door across the room, likely leading to a turbo lift, whooshed open and a similar light blazed through. The officers were momentarily blinded. Seizing the opportunity, the three intruders raced for it and dived through just as the phasers started firing.

"All right, where are we now?" Amy dared wonder, standing. "It looks like someone's quarters."

"Mr. Data?" the Doctor asked.

"It appears to be standard crew quarters of the _Enterprise C,"_ the android reported.

They tensed as a loud groaning came from another room.

"Sounds like these quarters are yet occupied," the Doctor observed, making for the door. "Let's go. Come along, Pond."

As soon as they stepped through the door, they found themselves in a medical bay, deserted and powered down for the night it looked like.

"Doctor, what's going on?" Amy asked fearfully.

"Okay, so then, we were in the museum in the _Enterprise_ exhibit," the Doctor began, speaking more to himself. "We took refuge in a specific exhibit and now find ourselves leaping through these exhibits, but in real time. It seems as though each normal door to the crew is a temporal door to us, sort of like the Crack."

"I thought the Crack only erased things from existence."

"There are many temporal anomalies in the galaxy, Miss Pond," Data said matter-of-fact.

"Indeed, but why…" And here the Doctor approached a panel and, waving his sonic, managed to access basic ship records. "Why is it doing this? What kind of anomaly is it, how did it form, and, most importantly, how do we get back to the museum?"

"Well, something tells me the only way to figure that out is to keep moving," Amy said, folding her arms and wetting her lips. "But where do we go?"

"Mr. Data, how many exhibits are on display in the _Enterprise_ exhibit?"

"Forty total, Doctor."

"Ah, so if we keep going, we ought to come out the other side."

"And if we don't?" Amy demanded.

"Let's worry about that if it comes. Come on!"

But twelve rooms and no success later, even the Doctor was starting to have doubts.

"How do we tell live rooms from exhibit rooms?" Amy wondered. "Why don't we just go back through?"

"Because that may not work. But I want to try one more room; I have a theory."

Well, there was no arguing with him and they entered the next door. Main Engineering of the _Enterprise D_ greeted them. Several people looked up, including Geordi la Forge.

"Data!" he exclaimed. "Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you all morning. And what are you dressed in?"

If he was going to rat more on the android, he didn't get a chance before several alarms went off. The calm engines, normally blue, suddenly turned red and ran frantically. Smoke and dangerous gases started leaking into the room.

"Aha!" the Doctor cried. "Come on!"

They darted through a door and found themselves in the quarters of an _Enterprise A_ crewmember, thankfully empty.

"All right, so what was your theory?" Amy asked.

"No time to explain now," the Doctor said, facing Data. "Give it to me. I promise I'll come back and deliver you to your own time."

"Data is the reason for the temporal doors?" the ginger guessed.

Neither man seemed to hear her as the Doctor pocketed something, grabbed Amy's wrist and headed out the door. They arrived safely in the museum, in the exhibit of the room they had just left. Listening carefully, the Doctor determined the Cerarian was not close and hopped to the ground.

"But I don't understand," Amy protested, following the Doctor back the _Enterprise D_.

"Hush!" the child-Doctor hissed.

When they reached the sick bay exhibit, Q was still there, leaning against the doorframe to the Chief Doctor's office. He was playing with the data disk and appeared almost genuinely surprised at their approach.

"Oh. You survived," he said, grimacing.

The Doctor tilted his head and fearlessly climbed into the exhibit to face him.

"Were you hoping otherwise? Were you hoping to get me into a situation where only you could save us? Well not today."

With that, he turned and left, motioning for Amy to follow. Now truly surprised, Q leaped after them, waving the disk in the child-Doctor's face.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he wondered.

"Not a thing," the Doctor told him satisfactorily.

"Isn't this what you came to get?"

"I came to get the answer to my problem, and I found it."

"But the data disk…"

"-was a decoy. I knew you would be listening in on our plans. But when Mr. la Forge and I were busy programming Data to be the time anchor I needed, I included another set of instructions, one known only between him and Doctor Crusher. True, that data disk has the answer I need, but in the likely event you came across it, I had another option. The good doctor encoded everything she discovered into a second chip embedded in Mr. Data's positronic net to be picked up at a later time."

With a simple sonic, the Doctor let them all out of the museum, still unopposed by the Cerarian. Q did not follow them beyond the top of the steps.

"So that's it?" he asked. "This is the wrath of the Time Lord you told Guinan about?"

The Doctor halted and turned. "Oh, no, Q. Not even close. I'll wait to show you that until I'm no longer just a child throwing a temper tantrum."

An expression resembling fear stretched Q's face, much to the Doctor's satisfaction. Digging out the TARDIS key, he unlocked the door and he and Amy slipped inside.

"So then, where to first?"

"We're going to fix the mess we made here," the Doctor informed her. "To do that, we first have to find Data and get him back here in his own time." He went about his usual rounds of time-travel input. "That explains the temporal doors. I tied Mr. Data, as a time anchor, to the _Enterprise_, though I neglected to specify which one. When we hid in the exhibit, the anchor activated and we traveled through each exhibit as a live experience. The anchor used the natural doors as gateways."

"Something happened on the _Enterprise D_, what was it?"

"There is already a Data on the _Enterprise D_ and the paradox threatened to tear that time apart. Once we left, I'm sure all the problems were quickly resolved. Now we pick up the proper Data and deliver him to the proper time, then get back to our time and solve this whole mess."

Such a mission was accomplished more or less without any trouble. Data managed to catch and restrain the Cerarian and her thugs long enough for the Doctor to "adjust" their memories of the night's events.

"Good luck, Mr. Data," the Doctor said shaking the android's hand. "I hope we meet again soon."

"As do I," Data replied.

"It was a joke, Mr. Data," Amy informed him.

"I do not understand."

"Think about it long enough, and you'll get it."

The Doctor gave him a wink and a smile before ducking into the TARDIS.

"You think he'll figure it out?" Amy wondered, stifling a giggle.

"Not likely," the child-Doctor sighed, still grinning. "Now then, let's see if our ride back can be as smooth as the ride here."

"Not likely."

But in fact it was. Instead of landing in a cargo bay, however, they ended up right in sick bay, much to the surprise of the staff.

"Oh, hello," the Doctor said, poking his head out. "Seems as though we may have made a bit of a surprise entrance on you all." He exited the TARDIS, followed by Amy. "So tell me, is Doctor Crusher around?"

A still-stunned nurse tapped her comm. Badge. "Sick bay to Doctor Crusher."

"Crusher here."

"The Doctor's returned."

"All right then, I'll be right there."

"Tell me," the Doctor said, frowning. "How long has it been since we left?"

"Seven weeks," the nurse informed him.

"Seven weeks?" Amy gasped.

"Still shorter than four years, three months, and seventeen days," the Doctor told her. "Though not quite as close as I had hoped."

Doctor Crusher entered sick bay and startled at the sight of the blue box. "Oh, Doctor. You came back."

"Yes, apparently my timing was a little off," the Doctor said, shrugging. "The good news is-" He brought out a tiny silver chip from his jacket. "-I got the information."

"Wonderful." She took the chip. "I'll take a peek at this and we should have you back to, um, normal shortly."

"I await your findings."


	8. The First Rule

**Note: Yes, I realize his clothing would not be affected, but I wanted to make a point of what was happening.**

* * *

"Are you sure about this, Doctor?" Amy asked fearfully as the Doctor stood on the transporter pad about ten hours later. "You completely trust these findings, with your life?"

"With all my lives, Amelia Pond," the Doctor said snidely. "Besides, I reviewed them myself." He let out a breath. "But you can only plan so long before a plan has to be put into action."

"What happened to being so happy about a second chance at childhood, in nine hundred years? If I have to wait four years, three months, and seventeen days, I will, even if it means trying to play cards according to your rules."

"I'm sorry, Amy, but it just doesn't work like that."

"Ready when you are, Doctor" Picard said from the controls. For all Chief O'Brien's credentials, the Doctor had specifically requested Picard to perform the task. Doctor Crusher and a medical team, Commander Riker, O'Brien, and Amy stood around the pad, waiting expectantly.

"Well, standing here isn't going to make me more or less prepared," the Doctor said, a nervous shake to his voice. "Let's do it."

As the beam encased him, he grinned. "I just _love_ teleports!"

He was soon lost in the mist. Picard pressed buttons and applied settings, but it was difficult to tell if it was having an effect. Every so often, they would glimpse a part of him. He was at least an adult again, though his appearance seemed to change. Picard momentarily glimpsed a bald head with wisps of white hair. Riker thought he saw a fluttering scarf. Crusher and O'Brien glanced at each other as they noticed curly blond hair. Amy gnawed on each of her nails in turn, pausing only when she caught sight of a pin-striped suit and sneakers. Picard tapped the last few buttons and the beam got thicker and brighter, forcing everyone to shield their eyes.

"Come on, Doctor," Amy breathed.

"Settings entered," Picard reported. "Final transport in progress…transport complete."

The light faded and the mist from the beam cleared. Amy grinned, choked out a laugh and put a hand to her mouth. Her Doctor had returned, silly bow tie and all, and he hadn't aged a day. Yet his gaze looked distant, unfocused. When the beam released him completely, he swayed once…twice…and he collapsed to the floor.

"Doctor!" Amy cried, rushing to him like one of the medical team. He was completely unconscious, dead weight as they hoisted him onto a stretcher. As he touched the bed, his lips parted and a fluttering gold dust emerged from his mouth.

"Can you beam him directly to sick bay?" Riker demanded.

"No!" Crusher barked. "I don't know what it would do to him."

"Get him to sick bay!" Amy ordered. "Now!"

They did so more out of protocol than her frantic insistence. They burst into sick bay and hefted him onto the center table, but Crusher was still at a loss. She turned to Amy. "Do you know anything? What's happening?"

Picard and Riker, unable to contain their curiosity, entered the room. Amy bit her lip. The Doctor was still unconscious but the dust was now more prominent, emanating from his hands and face. "I think he's regenerating."

The captain let out his breath in a poorly stifled gasp. "To watch a Time Lord regenerate…"

"He has to _die_ first, you moron!" Amy shrieked. "He's dying!"

But there was nothing to be done. No words or medicines or experiments could stop the regeneration now as it took full hold and encased the Doctor.

Amy had always figured it would take a long time to regenerate. Instead, the dust cleared only moments later, revealing an old man with tiny spectacles. Taking a shaky breath, Amy opened her mouth to speak, but could say nothing before he regenerated again. And then a third time.

"What's happening?" Picard asked.

"He's going through all his past regenerations," Amy said quietly. "His current DNA is built upon all his past DNA." She grinned and looked at Doctor Crusher. "The transporter gave him back the code, but his current body couldn't handle the sudden onslaught. Now he has to go back through and sort everything out."

"You figured that out all on your own?" Riker questioned.

"When you travel with the Doctor, your brain gets a good stretch too," was all Amy would say.

The Doctor was now a young man with a leather jacket and a fuzz of auburn hair on his round head. This man stayed only a moment before he was replaced by another young man, the one with the pin-striped suit and sneakers with pronounced sideburns and odd hair. Amy crossed her fingers as Ten disappeared in the glittering dust. The moment seemed to hang forever before it cleared. And there was her baby-faced doctor, with his tweed jacket and a silly bow tie to match his silly hair. The dust cleared and did not return. This Doctor was here to stay.

"Doctor?" Amy inquired. "Doctor, can you hear me?"

She put an ear to his chest. She sucked in a breath. There was nothing. Willing herself to breath, she put a finger to his neck, still nothing.

"Just give him a minute," Amy said, even though no one had spoken.

A minute passed, and yet his body remained lifeless. His ginger companion was the first to break with a sob. Doctor Crusher put an arm around her. Picard and Riker both sighed sadly and bowed their heads.

Amy was about to bury her face the Doctor Crusher's shoulder, when suddenly there was a sharp gasp of breath. Everyone looked as the Doctor sucked in a sudden breath and his eyes snapped open.

"Doctor?" Amy asked hopefully. "Doctor, are you all right?"

He looked around, his mouth still open. "How many centuries have passed?"

Amy grinned. "It's only been about nine minutes since the transporter, Doctor."

"Nine minutes? Not…not nine centuries?" He let out a breath and Amy realized tears were running from his eyes. "You mean to say…I've just lived the last nine hundred years in as many minutes?"

"You've just re-lived your last nine hundred years?" Doctor Crusher wondered.

"Not moment for moment per se, just…" He sighed and quickly wiped his eyes. "It was like a dream made up of stopped images, sometimes months or years apart mixed with a few specific scenes. In the dream, you know exactly what is happening, but once awake, it all escapes you." He closed his eyes and took a gasping breath. "Nine hundred years…in nine minutes you say?"

"That's right, Doctor. You collapsed on the transporter pad. When we got you back here, you started to regenerate, but you regenerated back through all your past lives." Amy frowned. "Are you all right, Doctor?"

"Fine. I'm always fine."

But they all knew no one was convinced. They could all guess what sort of "specific scenes" he had relived, even without the tears.

"How do you feel physically?" Doctor Crusher goaded.

He sighed and relaxed. "I could sleep for about four years, three months, and seventeen days." Taking a breath, he sat up and rested his head on his hands on his knees. "But not before I've eaten."

Amy smiled weakly. "Fish fingers and custard, Doctor?"

"Thank you, Pond."

"I think he should rest first," Crusher said.

"No, Doctor Crusher, this can't wait." Amy giggled. "If you ever encounter a Time Lord who has just regenerated – which you just have – the first thing he has to do is eat. Now then, fish fingers and custard?"

Less than a minute later, the Doctor was munching happily and talking to Captain Picard.

"Well, Doctor, it seems you've had quite an adventure," Picard observed casually.

"You don't know the half of it," Amy scoffed from where she sat on another bed.

"Adventure seems to follow us wherever we go," the Doctor told him modestly.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it doesn't follow you. Maybe you are the adventure."

"Hm? I like the sound of that. Maybe I shouldn't be the Doctor, then. Amy, how would you like to call me Adventurer from now on?"

"Too long to shout when we're in trouble," Amy told him, shaking her head gravely.

Picard chuckled. "So there you have it, Doctor." He stood straighter and tugged his shirt down formally. He extended his hand. "It has been absolutely incredible having you aboard, Doctor. I am honored beyond my wildest childhood dreams to have met a Time Lord."

The Doctor looked at his hand for a moment. Then he set aside the fish fingers and custard. He made to shake the Captain's hand, but pulled him into a full embrace. "Oh, don't be so formal, Captain! It was an honor to meet you as well. And who knows? We might meet again someday. After all, I do have the power to travel through time and space."

"So you do, Doctor. So you do."

"Give my regards to Data and Mr. la Forge, eh?"

"I will."

The Doctor swung his legs over the side of the bed just as the captain left and Doctor Crusher exited her office. She approached and held out the chip.

"No, Doctor, keep it," he said, folding her hand around it. "You're going to need it." He glanced at his unfinished meal. "Do you mind if I…?"

"Take it. It's the least I can do."

"Great!" He kissed both her cheeks. "Good luck, Doctor."

"Thank you, Doctor. It means a lot coming from you. And now, I have house calls to make."

"Of course. Go on."

After that, sick bay was empty save from the Doctor and Amy. He munched on another fish finger while she walked over to the TARDIS. He fumbled with the key but unlocked the door. Just as he was about to follow her in, a tiny sense told him to close the door. He jerked it shut and Q materialized just beside him.

"So close!" he cried in dismay.

"And yet so far," the Doctor sighed dramatically, setting aside his meal. He stood eye-to-eye with Q, his gaze unflinching and making Q visibly nervous. He took a step back but the Doctor came forward. "You know, Q, there is a reason the Time Lords created the TARDIS to keep you out. It's because we were going to be the first to finally tell your race 'No.' You said I would be nothing more than a child throwing a temper tantrum, but how is that different than what your people did to mine? That's all you are, Q, you and the other members of the Continuum, screaming, red-faced children throwing tantrums when you can't stick your nose into the business of every other race in the universe.

"Do you know how I finally won over you, Q? It's because I wouldn't play by the rules – your rules. Amy often accuses me of cheating. While it may be true if we were playing by the set rules, when we play by my rules, I always win. I have survived these last eight hundred-plus years of running by applying my own rules to the game. And, because only I know my rules, I always win. And I don't surrender to the screaming tantrums of spoiled children.

"But now you get to learn one of my rules, Q," the Doctor breathed as Q finally hit the wall. "Run. Run back to the Continuum. And you tell them that the last Time Lord will not be intimidated into breaking the sacred laws of all the Time Lords set down through the ages. Then tell them to start running also. Start running, Q. And don't stop."

With that, the Doctor grabbed his fish fingers and custard and entered the TARDIS.

And that, Q found out, was the wrath of the Time Lord. He never once raised his voice, did not threaten to kill him or the Continuum. He just commanded them to run, run as he had been running, and never stop. And that is exactly what Q did.

* * *

**Nope, not done yet...**


	9. Epilogue: Flight

"So, where to now?" Amy inquired eagerly. "You have your image back, so what sort of planets are we going to save or heroic efforts are we going to perform now?"

The Doctor finished off the fish fingers and custard but did not reply. He flipped buttons and switches, but even when the shaking stopped, still said nothing.

"Doctor?" Amy wondered tentatively.

"I'm going to rest for a while," the Doctor announced. "I'm still tired from regenerating."

"Right, of course. Good night, Doctor." But as he left, she called after him, "Doctor! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine; I'm always fine."

And he disappeared around a corner.

After a moment, Amy figured to follow his example. There would be plenty of running tomorrow, she knew.

* * *

But the following morning, Amy found the Doctor beneath the control platform working on some wiring and whatnot.

"Did you sleep?" she wondered.

"No," was his short reply.

"I thought you said you were tired."

"I did." He stood and went around the other side to fix something else.

"But you didn't sleep."

"You're talking in circles, Amy. Say what's on your mind."

He was in one of his moods, she knew. He just wanted to be left alone, she knew. But she also knew that deep down in his hearts, he wanted her to press deeper. So she gathered her nerve and a breath and asked, "What's wrong?"

He dropped the wires and looked at her. "I relived my entire life in nine minutes, Amy," he told her. "I saw _everything_ in absolutely perfect detail; forget 'broken images' and whatever other nonsense I told Doctor Crusher." He was on the move again, back up to the controls. He started pressing buttons and turning knobs, ready to be off again.

"You saw Gallifrey destroyed," Amy said quietly.

"I did." He didn't miss a beat and yanked down on the final lever with much more force than necessary. "And I was suddenly reminded why I keep running, what I'm running from."

"What are you running from?"

He looked at her straight in the eye with a mixture of anger and sorrow such as no one in the world had ever seen or ever would see.

"Myself."


End file.
